


the whole world is moving (and i'm standing still)

by dialecstatic



Series: whatever a sun will always sing is you [9]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bonding, Complicated Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Growing Up, I have no idea, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Introspection, LGBT issues, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Nonbinary Character, Other, POV Alternating, Trans Character, feelings - freeform, i mean it's me what did you expect, theyre a mess and so am i, trans boy!jungwoo, trans girl!kun, transfeminine!taeil, unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 02:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14802692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dialecstatic/pseuds/dialecstatic
Summary: taeil, kun, yukhei, jungwoo, and the things they haven't figured out quite yet.(it's okay. give time to time, and you'll be fine.)





	the whole world is moving (and i'm standing still)

**Author's Note:**

> this incorporates plot elements of several fics of the series, namely "from the ocean to the shore" (part 1), "i run for miles just to get a taste" (part 4) and "don't let go, it's what makes you real" (part 8), so i'd recommend reading those if you want to be able to get the full story!
> 
> title from "world spins madly on" by the weepies

Taeil likes to think they have a way with people.

 

Though they don’t particularly consider themself the introverted type, they like to sit back sometimes and just watch as they go about, their interactions fascinating to them on so many levels, the way that they entwine with each other and get tangled up in feelings, a safe cocoon that keeps all of them warm even when the world is so cruelly cold. Taeil is glad, every day, to be a part of that.

 

Yukhei still sometimes lacks that awareness, but Taeil doesn’t doubt that he’ll grow into it, smart and practical as he is. Right now they’d rather let Yukhei grow at his own pace, find what’s right for him.

 

This, as far as they’re concerned, and as much as they hate having to tell him, isn’t it.

 

They’re sitting together on one of the comfiest sofas at their regular hangout, just the two of them this time as Yukhei had requested. His voice over the phone had been nervous and hesitant, but Taeil quickly realizes it was nothing compared to how Yukhei is now, hands folded nervously in his lap, barely able to look at them.

 

The night they’d spent together replays in Taeil’s mind as they wait for Yukhei to find his words, the way he’d been so open and pliant in their hands, how they’d felt compelled to take care of him even as they had him down for the count, and how easy it had been to fall into him, trust him with their own wants, their own needs. He's a people person, and as Taeil had found out to their own delight, a people pleaser, but hey're worried sometimes that he forgets himself in all of it.

 

"I can't stop thinking about that night." Yukhei mumbles, fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt. "And you. I really can't stop thinking about you, even more than before."

 

It will never stop being amazing to Taeil how small Yukhei can make himself sometimes, retreating into his own body, shoulders slumped and legs folded inwards, wild hair falling in front of his wide eyes and painting a picture of a boy trying too hard to become a man. 

 

"We had fun, yeah?" they say, reaching out to touch Yukhei's shoulder. He leans into their touch, and Taeil wonders if he even realizes it.

 

"It was everything I wanted." Yukhei huffs, smile tugging at his lips. "And a few things I didn't even know I wanted."

 

They both smile at the recollection, Yukhei shifting a little bit on the cushions as he no doubt remembers how they'd felt that night. It had been, without a doubt, not what Yukhei had expected, but Taeil was still glad they were able to give him that experience. 

 

"I kinda... Fuck, I don't know how to say this."

 

"You speak like four languages, I'm sure you'll get it out." Taeil teases, trying to help him relax, and forgetting that they can't.

 

They know exactly what Yukhei is about to say, and the thought of what they'll have to tell him is already eating away at their mind.

 

“You’re gonna think I’m dumb.”

 

“I know for a fact that you aren’t.”

 

To that, Yukhei only replies with a sigh and sags against the back of the couch, seemingly intent on looking everywhere but at Taeil. They can’t find it in them to blame him.

 

“I guess I can’t stop thinking about you, and what happened, and I know we’re not the closest in the group, but I really can’t get you out of my mind and I think I’m in love with you?” Yukhei finally spits out, all in one breath, like he’s afraid he’ll chicken out if he stops speaking. 

 

When he’s done, he sneaks a hesitant look at Taeil, his eyes drooping a little bit in the same way they had when he was looking up at them that night, before everything happened so fast that neither of them knew how or cared to stop it.

 

Feelings are complicated, and they’re messy, this much Taeil knows. They almost wish they were able to change their own way, to tell Yukhei they feel the same, just so they could avoid the inevitable heartbreak they have to hand to him. But lying to themself about they way they feel is something they’d promised to never do. So, if it has to come to this, then they’ll be the villain, even just for a moment.

 

“It’s not… I don’t think that’s love, Xuxi, it’s… Infatuation.”

 

Yukhei lowers his head, staring at nothing in particular. Trying, hard as he can, to not look at Taeil.

 

“I don’t know what you mean.” his voice is softer than Taeil’s ever heard it, the deep tones offset by a vulnerability they often forget is there.

 

“Ah… I just don’t think you’re in love with me, Xuxi. You’re in love with… The idea of me.”

 

The words seem to make something click in Yukhei’s mind, his brows furrowing as he speaks.

 

“The idea…”

 

“Yeah,” Taeil chuckles. “I just think you have this… This sort of ideal of me in your head, and maybe you’ll realize that overtime, but I’m sorry baby, it’s just not me. I think we want and need different things, Xuxi. It’s just the way life is sometimes.”

 

They extend a hand to Yukhei, giving themself no false hope that he’ll take it, but he does, something like sadness washing over his face for a moment.

 

“I’ve never been in love.” he says, letting out a small laugh. “And I thought maybe that was it, you know? But…”

 

“You’re very eager, this much I know. And sometimes too much.” Taeil tries to say it as gently as possible, but Yukhei still screws up his face into a picture of self-derision. “It’s okay to have never been in love. Don’t rush it, and everything will happen if and when it needs to.”

 

The atmosphere around them has considerably relaxed in just a minute, and Yukhei lets himself fall backwards, his back hitting the couch with a soft thud, a sad smile spreading across his face. Taeil moves to sit closer to him, running a hand through the younger boy’s hair, trying to dispense some tenderness even if things aren’t exactly like before. If they aren’t, they can work it out.

 

“I can’t promise that life will turn out like you envisioned. But you’re a great guy, Xuxi. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you.”

 

“How will I know?”

 

Taeil doesn’t expect the question. They don’t exactly consider themselves an expert on love, despite the amount of advice they’ve given over the years, and Yukhei’s innocence still takes them aback sometimes, puts them at a loss for words even when there’s so much to say.

 

“You just will. It’s not something I can explain or quantify but… You’ll know.”

 

___

 

If you were to ask him now, Jungwoo would probably say he’d had ample time to get used to life in college. Everything goes faster than what he’s used to, sure, and he still finds himself overwhelmed sometimes even now, but he’s had enough time to find a rhythm that works for him, and there isn’t much that makes him stop and reflect about how life used to be anymore.

 

Watching his friends fall hard and deep in love, unafraid of their own feelings, is the one thing Jungwoo still finds himself amazed by.

 

High school hadn’t been the place for that kind of things, not for people like them. Jungwoo remembers even now, how he barely found it in himself to tell others who he is, never expecting much of anything in return, how he kept all of his thoughts and his desires locked away somewhere he hoped nobody would find them. There was too much going on for him back then, trying to make sense of himself only to find that there was another taboo at the end of it, wondering if it was right for him to be this way. There never seemed to be anything written on the wall, anyone who told him it was okay to just be, until he met Mr Kim, and until he met Doyoung. Still even then, when it was just the two of them and their admittedly overwhelmed mentor, Jungwoo coudn’t ever have imagined any of the things that transpire in his everyday life, any of the things that seem so mundane to his new friends and yet so amazing to him.

 

Love always seemed like it was an unattainable goal. No one will love you, no one will want you. The men you love won’t love you back, you’re a liar, you’re something else, something we don’t want to see or have anything to do with. Jungwoo couldn’t fathom love happening to someone like him. Now, he sees it everyday, in more ways than he knew existed.

 

Life is worth staying around to see, after all.

 

Even if love isn’t a perfect picture, Jungwoo finds it beautiful in all its disorderly glory. He sees the love in how Johnny will hoist a drunken Ten on his back at the end of a night out, and how Ten immediately falls asleep with his cheek on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He sees it too in the way Yuta relaxes under Sicheng’s touch, to the sound of their voice, how they lend themselves to Sicheng’s art without a second thought. To his own delight, Jungwoo also sees it in the way Jaehyun always seems to calm Doyoung’s nervous urges, and how Doyoung in turn helps Jaehyun stay grounded, gives him the space he needs to grow without letting him get in over his head. 

 

The image of his best friend like this, loving and being loved, after it had been the two of them alone together back in tiny study rooms and childish playgrounds, hoping this would come to pass one day, never gets old to Jungwoo. Everything that the world seemed to try and withhold from them is happening, and he’ll take the hardships that come with it anyday over never having known it at all.

 

Which is why, when he hears through the grapevine about Yukhei’s failed confession to Taeil, he decides to step in. There’s something about Yukhei that almost makes Jungwoo want to protect him the way Doyoung had done for him, but he knows better than to just assume that Yukhei is the same lost little boy that he once was. So when he drops down next to him at one of the tables in the library, where Yukhei is poring over a book that looks like it’s been here as long a the school itself, Jungwoo knows he has to be careful with his words.

 

“Hey. Kun said you’ve been in here for like four hours.”

 

“Maybe.” Yukhei barely lifts his head to reply, scribbles down something in a script Jungwoo doesn’t recognize.

 

“I thought you were all caught up on your revisions.” he says, because he knows that Yukhei has a tendency to overwork himself, especially when he’s down like this. 

 

“Better safe than sorry, right?”

  
Okay, _enough_.

 

“Xuxi,” Jungwoo drops, voice firm and demanding, and Yukhei snaps away from his book almost automatically at the use of that particular name. “Have you talked to anyone? About… Your Taeil situation?”

 

Jungwoo assumes he’ll have talked to Kun, at least. He thinks there isn’t anything Yukhei doesn’t tell her. It’s always quite adorable, the way she takes care of him, even when no one else thinks she still has to, but maybe in times like this, Yukhei really does need Kun like that.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course I did. Talked to Kun...”

 

Figures. It’s been two weeks, after all, and Jungwoo likes to think he would have noticed if anything was festering in his friend’s heart.

 

“And what did she say?” 

 

Yukhei lets out a dejected sigh as he leans back into his chair, closing the book with a little too much force and throwing his pen on top of his notes. There’s a flash of something like sadness and resignation in his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest, and Jungwoo has to stop himself from compulsively reaching over to take Yukhei’s hand. It’s something he’s wanted to do, many times, over the months, but boundaries and uncertainty have kept him in his place no matter how urgent it became.

 

“That there’s not much I can do about it.” Yukhei says, and yes, there’s definitely resignation in his voice. “And I have to accept it.”

 

If this were high school, and Jungwoo still held his own preconceived ideas, he’d feel like Yukhei is blaming everyone but himself, trying to find a way to make himself the victim. But now, in the way he speaks, Jungwoo can tell that Yukhei is trying his best to bear the weight that the situation has on him, making honest attempts at understanding what happened.

 

“Guess I wasn’t ready for… whatever that was.”

 

“It’s not anyone’s fault, you know.” Jungwoo tries to reason. He’s known Taeil and Yukhei for roughly the same amount of time, and there’s nothing about either of them that ever made him think they’d play with people’s feelings.

 

“You want to go for a walk? Jaehyun told me there’s a donut shop that opened a few streets away and that you haven’t lived before you’ve tasted their toasted coconut recipe.”

 

That seems to get Yukhei’s attention and take his mind off Taeil for at least a moment, because he perks up where he’s sitting and hastily throws his notes in his bag.

 

“Yes. Please. I need a sugar high right now.”

 

Jungwoo resists the nagging impulse to comment that Yukhei often behaves like he was born on a sugar high, and waits by the door while Yukhei checks the book out. That’s another misconception he had to break, about ‘guys like this’, when he’d met Yukhei for the first time.  Jungwoo assumed - and realized how ironic that was of him - that Yukhei wasn’t much of a thinker, with the brash and almost naive way he lives his life and reacts to it. The discovery that he was, in fact, a world literature buff who could read classics in four languages (and was working on the fifth) had left Jungwoo feeling a little embarrassed that he ever assumed anything at all. He guesses everyone has that vice, even if they don’t realize it, and he’s at least happy to know he has one more thing to talk to Yukhei about.

 

___

 

“It’s bigger than my face!!” Yukhei exclaims, lifting his donut next to his head, eyes popping out in shock.

 

“That’s quite a feat yeah, it’s hard to find anything bigger than your face.” Jungwoo quips before taking a sip of his coffee, his own pastry balanced precariously on top of the lid, straw going through the donut hole.

 

Yukhei jokingly swats at him before sitting next to his friend on the bench they’d found, the only one in the shade at this hour. There’s kids roaming around the park, climbing and swinging without a care in the world, their cheers filling the air even as the weather gets colder.

 

“Don’t you ever wish you could go back?” Yukhei asks around a mouthful of toasted coconut. “Like… be a kid again. Wouldn’t have to worry about… anything, really.”

 

“Not so sure about that.”

 

They sit in silence for a while, watching the children play. Jungwoo can feel their arms brushing against each other every so often, hesitates to sit closer to Yukhei everytime he thinks he feels the other man getting sad again, afraid he’ll get lost in his own thoughts.

 

“I guess it would be nice, maybe.” Jungwoo finally chimes in, unable to stop thinking about the way Yukhei’s voice had dropped when he’d talked about childhood. “There weren’t so many problems to deal with.”

 

“It’s not that I don’t like life the way it is now, but,” Yukhei muses, sucking on the ice cubes at the bottom of his cup. “I could do without the stares, and the whispers.”

 

Jungwoo has never agreed to anything so fast in his life.

 

“When did you come out?” he asks, tentatively, feeling like he’s walking on a razor’s edge. The last thing he wants is to make Yukhei relive some bad memories.

 

“Ah. The break right before my last year of high school.”

 

His eyes go dark, hands toying with his straw, bending and twisting the plastic like he’s trying to make it snap.

 

“I thought… I don’t really know what I thought. Or what I expected. But when I came back to school, none of my friends wanted to talk to me anymore.”

 

Jungwoo squeezes his eyes shut, regret at asking Yukhei such a personal question instantly washing over him. He’s not sure what he was thinking, why he thought it’d be a good idea to bring up these memories when Yukhei is so vulnerable, but it makes Jungwoo want to punch himself in the face.

 

“I’m.. I’m so sorry. Let’s not talk about it. I shouldn’t even have asked, I-”

 

“It’s okay man. It’s behind me now, and in hindsight I’m definitely better off without them, but, and this is going to sound super conceited,” Yukhei huffs out a pitiful little laugh “but the only reason I regretted it was because suddenly, I wasn’t popular anymore.”

 

“I always did figure you were a popular guy.”

 

“I mean, have you seen me?”

 

Yukhei grins, a million teeth to spare, and Jungwoo feigns punching his arms but eventually ends up leaning against his shoulder, fingers curling around his bicep. It’s the kind of comfort he imagines Yukhei wants right now, even as his boisterous side takes over for a moment, and even as Jungwoo’s heart is thumping loudly in his chest as he does.

 

“It sucked. I didn’t… I don’t know how to deal with being alone.” 

 

“You’re not alone.” Jungwoo replies without thinking, the words so cliché he can feel embarrassment creeping up the nape of his neck.

 

“No, I know but I really was, back then. And I guess that’s why I loved being so surrounded, because I never had to be alone with myself.” Yukhei says. “And then suddenly there was no one to stop that from happening.”

 

That’s a feeling Jungwoo knows way too well. 

 

“I had no one to talk to about the things I felt, and I don’t even know if people would have taken me seriously anyway-”

 

“-and you felt like no one could possibly understand even though you knew you weren’t the only one.” Jungwoo finishes, staring at a pebble on the ground.

 

“Yeah. That’s about it.” 

 

“I didn’t come out to anyone except my school counselor and Doyoung until my last week of high school.” Well, he knows that not entirely true. “I mean I tried but… It never led to anything.”

 

That much he thinks Yukhei can understand, even if their details are different. Jungwoo couldn’t remember exactly all of the attempts he’d made, stealing shirts from his father’s closet, cutting his own hair on a Wednesday night when his parents were out for dinner, and making up some lie about getting gum stuck in it to explain it to his baffled mother the next day at breakfast. He’d tried to brave it out, then and there, but his courage died almost as quickly as it came.

 

“What made you decide to finally do it?”

 

“The knowledge that I’d probably never have to see any of these people again.” 

 

Yukhei snorts and hangs his head, says, “Okay, that’s fair.”, and Jungwoo wonders if he feels that relief too, some sort of justification from leaving so far away from home and not looking back.

 

“My parents… I think they know, but we’ve never talked about it.” 

 

“Mine too.” 

 

They try and turn to look at each other, but the shift of Yukhei’s body makes Jungwoo fall backwards and nearly crash to the ground, barely managing to grip the sleeve of Yukhei’s jacket, yelping when the blunt corner of the stone bench digs into his back. Yukhei pulls him up best he can and Jungwoo curls up on himself, hiding his face in his knees, trying to regain whatever composure he still has left.

 

“You okay?” Yukhei asks, brushing a warm hand down Jungwoo’s back. 

 

“Yeah. Yes, sure. Sorry. We’re kind of a mess aren’t we.”

 

“At least we’re aware of it.” 

 

That’s where Jungwoo finds some comfort. When he had no one to talk to, life was rough and scary, always leading to dark corners of his own mind where he couldn’t find any answers. Now at least he has this, Yukhei to share his distress and a whole group of friends he can trust with his worries. 

 

They’ll get there, eventually. 

 

“I know people always say to not rush into things but I guess I just wanted to experience that… Seeing everyone else, it made me want to know what it feels like.” Yukhei chimes, looking up at the sky. “I don’t want to wait for life to happen, y’know?”

 

“I get that, yeah.” There’s still so much left unfelt. “When you’re like me… You often feel like you’re running out of time.”

 

Jungwoo closes his eyes, tries to focus on the encouraging words that Mr Kim had left with him, and he feels a weight on his shoulder, lifts his head to find Yukhei’s arm around him. 

 

“If anyone tries to come for you, they’ll feel my wrath, I can guarantee that!” he growls, pulling Jungwoo closer to him.

 

“Why are you talking like a comic book villain?” 

 

“Don’t kill the moment, man!”

 

So Jungwoo just lets Yukhei have his _moment_ , and relaxes into the comforting feeling of knowing they’re at least in this together.

 

___

 

Sometimes, Kun thinks her friends are gently teasing her about how much she takes care of them, and especially Yukhei. She doesn’t think she’s as dotting as they say, surely, not as they’re all adults and perfectly capable - most of the time - of handling themselves. She just thinks that, well, sometimes they need a little push in the right direction, and some more often than others.

 

That’s exactly what Yukhei needed a few weeks prior, when he stumbled into her dorm room holding his bag and the old raggedy plushie he’d brought from home, and asked if he could stay the night. She’d had to remind him this wasn’t exactly summer camp, and he’d ended up with his head in her lap, like many times before, recounting his first heartbreak. Kun thought it was maybe a dramatic way to put it, but she still let Yukhei speak until he exhausted himself, until there was nothing left to say on his end and she could dispense the advice he was so obviously waiting for.

 

She’s not going to pretend she’s an expert on matters of the heart, but for Yukhei, she tries her best.

 

No, Kun doesn’t think she’s as dotting as her friends say she is, and yet she still finds herself asking Taeil if she can walk them home on a Friday, because she needs to make sure the situation is resolved on all sides. The last thing she wants are for bad feelings to make their way into the fold and stay there to infect everything she cares about.

 

“You kind of broke his heart.” Kun says matter-of-factly, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible.

 

Taeil huffs, readjusting their bag on their shoulder as they keep walking, eyes getting lost looking at nothing in particular.

 

“Well, someone had to be the first. I’m sure he’ll be ok.” 

 

They don’t press on or try to justify themself, and Kun is almost thankful for that. She knows the last thing Yukhei needs right now is anyone being patronizing towards him.

 

“You know, as his honorary mother I feel like I should be mad at you”, she starts, earning an inelegant snort from Taeil. “But at least you let him down gently. Maybe he’ll actually take your words and turn them into advice.” 

 

“He’s a good kid. You raised him well.” Taeil replies with a grin, and Kun dramatically pinches the bridge of her nose.

 

“It’s been hard doing it by myself, but we got through the worst of it!”

 

Kun realizes about halfway through that it’s not exactly right. She’d been the most hands-on with Yukhei’s life education, as it were, sure, but she couldn’t just brush off the role the others had played, the fact that their entire group learns from each other and grows together. Still there had been something about watching them over the years, falling into each other as she remained alone and lonely, that filled her with a certain kind of bitterness she can’t erase no matter how hard she tries. Having Yukhei in her life had filled that void in a way, and she could concentrate on that sibling bond instead, the joy of watching Yukhei grow and learn enough for now. 

 

It’s not that Kun thinks of romance as the be all, end all of her life, but she just wishes she’d get to experience it, even once. Just once. 

 

“I didn’t meant to hurt him.” there’s sincerity in Taeil’s voice, and Kun has no reason not to believe them. “And I really hope he’s doing fine.”

 

He will, surely. Kun knows Yukhei is young and impressionable still, almost a victim of his own passion and enthusiasm, finally living the life he didn’t get to when the world turned on him. She doesn’t blame him for getting carried away, but she knows it would be unfair, unforgiving almost, to blame Taeil for their own feelings, and so she doesn’t.

 

“I’m sure he will be. He’s more sensitive than you’d expect, but he can also be tougher than you’d know.”

 

“I don’t think anything less of him.” Taeil says, and they stop in their tracks when they reach a red light. “My place is just across the street now.” 

 

Ah. Right. 

 

“Tell you what,” and suddenly there’s a hand on Kun’s shoulder, and Taeil has that look on their face they only get when they’re about to have a really good idea or a really questionable one. “Why don’t we finish the party there?”

 

“Woah there, Moon Taeil,” Kun raises both eyebrows at them, “are you propositioning me?”

 

“That’s for me to know, and for you to find out,” they muse, jerking their head towards the street when the pedestrian light turns green. 

 

Kun has no idea why, but she trusts the tug in her heart that tells her to follow them.

  
  


___

  
  


“What’s your poison?” Taeil enquires from where they’re rummaging under their sink, the sound of glass and metal bumping into each other almost drowning out the sound of their voice.

 

“Literally anything you have. Throw everything in the same glass, go wild.”

 

“You probably don’t want me to do that. I’ve been known to nearly kill people with my concoctions.”

 

Kun snorts, remembering the time Ten had sworn up and down he could drink anything and not be hungover the next day, only for Johnny to send a mass text the following morning warning everyone to never, ever drink any cocktail made by Taeil. There was a string of dubious and definitely worrisome emojis, and Taeil had simply replied with a winky face after making sure add Ten to the chat.

 

“Honestly? After the week I’ve had, you _could_ kill me, and I’d say thank you.” Kun drops her bag on the floor near the table and shrugs her jacket off, looking around the room.

 

She’d been at Taeil’s place before, but always with others, never given the time to really observe the way her friend lives. There’s a guitar and a keyboard stashed near the bed, music books stacked on top of each other on a nightstand that looks like it was rescued from the back of a moving truck, and a few dying houseplants - Jungwoo would be livid - balanced on the only windowsill. The apartment looks thoroughly lived in, and there’s a certain familiarity about it that Kun revels in when she sits on the folded-up sofabed, tucking a pillow under her chin.

 

“I always thought pottery was supposed to be a relaxing hobby.” Taeil comments as they hand Kun a glass of something that could either be white rum, vodka, soju, or all three combined, and let themself fall on the cushions beside her.

 

“Yeah well, try telling that to the professor who wants me to churn out a whole tea set in one day. I can’t feel my hands, I don’t think I own a single pair of jeans that doesn’t have clay encrusted in it somewhere, and I see the ghost of Patrick Swayze whenever I close my eyes.”

 

Kun takes a breath and stops talking long enough to take her first sip, and she’s surprised to find that the drink is, in fact, just white rum and lemonade. No one is dying tonight, with any luck.

 

“I know mojitos are your favorite, but I don’t have mint, brown sugar or anything to crush ice with… or really, anything to make a mojito except the liquids. You know I love my liquids. So we’re going to have to make do.” Taeil says, bringing their glass up to toast with Kun. “Also, I have never heard you talk about yourself for that long in one go. Things really are rough, uh?”

 

They lean back against the couch, and Kun has to stop and think for a moment. She doesn’t like to unload her problems on people, especially not when she doesn’t even realize that she’s doing it, but Taeil might be the perfect person to talk to right now, with their odd wisdom and their way with words. And the alcohol involved might make things a bit easier on both of them, is what Kun hopes. 

 

“Yeah. Kinda. I mean, I know exam season is almost here so we’re all in panic mode but…”

 

“But it’s harder for the one who also runs around all day making sure Doyoung doesn’t forget to eat again, that Yukhei doesn’t accidentally fall asleep on his notes and wake up with half of them on his face, and that Taeyong and Yuta are doing good and not having episodes.” Taeil hits, right on the head.

 

“I guess you’re right.”

 

“You know I am.”

 

Kun hates how easy she is to read sometimes, but she has to hand this one to Taeil. So she just settles, draws her knees up to her chest, and gets on with her drink.

 

The night draws on longer than she thought it would, and soon she’s got Taeil’s legs thrown over her lap, the entire tray of bottles from under the sink having made their way onto the small coffee table. Taeil has even unearthed a pack of beer left there by someone after a night in, and although it’s lukewarm and neither of them have any idea how long it’s been there ( _“Do you think it’s fermented even further?” “I would hope so.”_ ), they’ve both got an open can in their hands as Taeil recounts a completely disastrous date they went on, early in their college life.

 

“I don’t even know why I agreed to it, honestly. I got all dolled up and for what?!” 

 

“I honestly feel bad for anyone who still bothers with cis men.” Kun interjects, pointing at nothing with the same hand that’s holding her beer.

 

“You bother with one every single day of your life!” 

 

There’s a loud, exaggerated “ouch” resounding through the room as Taeil leans over to pinch Kun’s arm, and they nearly fall of the couch doing so. 

 

“You know what I mean. Plus, Xuxi gets a pass. He would never have done that to you.”

 

“I know!”

 

The subject of Yukhei and Taeil’s encounter isn’t something Kun wants to bring up again, so she just falls quiet, hoping it’ll dissipate soon enough with the late hours and the alcohol. Instead, Taeil decides to speak.

 

“He really is a good guy, Kun. He’s one of the only people I’ve ever been intimate with who I actually felt was in it for me, and not for the… Spectacle, or whatever.”

 

The tone of their voice would be enough to break anyone’s heart, and the worst part, Kun thinks, is that she knows exactly what they mean. The spectacle, the experience, of what they are. The opportunity to check something off of some disgusting to-do list. She shudders a little as she recalls the men who’d propositioned her if they knew, their twisted intention of being with someone like her solely so they could say they had, all regard for her humanity thrown out the window. It was, among everything she’d experienced on her way to embracing who she is, possibly the worst feeling in the world.

 

“I’m sorry.” is all she says, because although she’s dealt with that particular demon herself, she never really found any comforting words for it. 

 

“I refuse to resign myself to it but… Fuck, sometimes it just piles on. I’ve spent too many nights feeling like I was just used and thrown away, scumbags who just want the satisfaction of saying they fucked a freak.” Taeil spits out, hands trembling around their glass. “I don’t want to be someone’s experiment.”

 

They let their head fall against the back of the couch, a veil of sadness draping itself over their face. It’s not something Kun is used to seeing, because Taeil doesn’t often let themself be vulnerable like this, so she doesn’t say anything, simply lets them feel it out, and shoots them a look that she hopes conveys understanding and sympathy.

 

“It’s awful. Imagining them just bragging to their friends about it…” 

 

“Going in their book of conquests as the ‘chick with a dick’.” Taeil imitates a full body shudder and knocks back the rest of their drink “I don't even know if I am.”

 

“Feels like there's a target on your back, yeah.”

 

"In more ways than one." 

 

They both huff at that, and Kun throws her head back, trying to relax the familiar dread creeping up her shoulders. She'd learned over the years, as she'd become more comfortable with her identity and her appearance, that the way people looked at her changed in a way she couldn't control. Everyday she notices it more and more, the frowning faces, confused eyes looking her up and down, trying to figure her out, make sense of her existence, justify it to themselves. She sees the parents who tell their child to look away when she smiles at them on the bus, the teenagers who snicker to each other when she walks by, the grown men who turn their noses up at the sight of her, like she's something they think they shouldn't have to see.

 

She's taught herself to deal with it over time, but it doesn't stop the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach when she walks home at night, the same kind of dread that makes her keep her old clothes in a bag at the back of her closet, like a disguise she can't bring herself to throw away. 

 

There's too many incidents to recall.

  
  


"I guess it kind of fucked me up. But is it weird that despite all that, I don't really want to be any other way?" Taeil breaks her out her thoughts, and Kun looks over at where they're pouring themselves another drink. "Like... Even if it would be so much easier to just ignore myself..."

 

"You'd just be miserable." Kun finishes for them, no resignation in the way she speaks. "Isn't that how we all live?"

 

“Exactly. And we can’t lose hope, right? One day, we’ll all get what we want. What we deserve. I’ll keep holding on to that even if no one else believes it.” Taeil makes the announcement without much fanfare, but they still lift their glass up in the air.

 

“We can believe together.”

  
  


___

 

Kun wakes up curled up against the arm of the sofa, and she has no idea how the pillow under her head got there but she looks over at Taeil who is still sound asleep on the other end, and assumes they must have been her guardian angel the previous night. She tries to extract herself from under their legs still thrown haphazardly across her lap without waking them, and stumbles towards the kitchenette, swearing under her breath that she is never,  _ever_ drinking again.

 

“Oh my god,” she spots the jar of instant coffee and taps her fist to her chest in silent celebration, “thank you, thank you so much.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Taeil’s sleep-ladden voice comes from behind her “but you should probably drink some water first.”

 

“Shit, did I wake you?” 

 

“Ah, it’s fine. I don’t ever sleep that much anyway.”

 

Once again, Taeil is right. Kun downs two full glasses of water before she even realizes it, and she feels like she’s born anew, the tepid beer and dubious combinations from the previous night washing away even if just a little. She lets Taeil handle the coffee machine ( _“ No, it almost exploded in Doyoung’s face once and I thought they were going to murder me and sell my organs to replace it.”_ ) and just slouches back on the sofa, rubbing her temples a little too forcefully.

 

“How are you feeling?” Taeil asks as they hand her a cup, the sugar bowl clacking against the table when they set it down, noise resonating around Kun’s skull. She winces and they pat her shoulder sympathetically, or maybe in apology, Kun decides that’s not important right now.

 

“Physically? Like Xuxi and Johnny both sat on my head for an extended period of time. At the same time. And now in a sexy way either.”

 

“I think you’re gonna need more coffee.”

 

They sit out the morning in comfortable silence, Taeil occasionally humming between sips, and even like this their voice is so soothing that Kun would almost fall asleep again if her alarm didn’t go off.

 

“Okay, who sets alarms during the weekend?” Taeil gives her a disgusted look.

 

“Oh fuck, it’s for the youth center, I told Yixing I’d take over because he can’t cover the afternoon today and I completely forgot-” Kun nearly falls off the couch trying to grab her bag and her jacket at the same time, her cup thankfully empty when she knocks it over. “I have to go, I’m so sorry.”

 

“You are a damn saint.” she hears Taeil say when she checks herself out in the stand mirror in the corner, fussing with her hair where it’s sticking out in one particularly odd place.

 

They get up off the couch and adjust Kun’s jacket on her shoulders, give it a yank to straighten it up. At least that’s something. 

 

“Thanks for last night.” Kun says almost too softly to be heard, rushing towards the door and turning around - out of respect or longing, she isn’t quite sure - to lean against it and speak directly to Taeil. “It was nice to get out of my own head for once.”

 

The moment is almost too cliché to be believed and she shuts her eyes tight, trying to chase the last remnant of haziness from her mind. 

 

“Of course. I’m glad we could talk, even if it was mostly commiserating.” Taeil laughs and runs a hand through their bed hair, strands falling in front of their eyes. 

 

Kun can barely catch her breath. 

 

“Sometimes you just gotta let it out.” she says, tugging at the collar of her shirt, incredibly aware of her surroundings, of the person standing in front of her.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Silence settles in for a second, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Kun scratches her nails against the fabric of her bag strap, Taeil pushes themself off the wall with one hand, straightening up in front of her.

 

“Thank you. Really, Kun… Not just for last night.” Taeil breathes out, pursing their lips as they think. “For everything you do for us.”

 

Ah, that again. Kun knows, has heard, from multiple of her friends, that she has a tendency to put everyone else before herself, their wellbeing and happiness before her own. She’s made peace with it at this point, feeling content with the way her life is and the peace of mind she can bring to others. There isn’t much she has to say about any of it at this point, emotional overcompensation or not. She does it because she can, because she wants to, because it brings her a certain kind of tranquility, because it helps her cope with her own loneliness at times, when the sheets of her bed feel too cold and rough, when her hands feel empty. 

 

Self-sacrificing as she may be, Kun prides herself on at least being honest.

 

“Please don’t forget we’re also here if you need us.”

 

And then Taeil leans closer, a welcomed crowd in the empty space Kun often feels surrounding her, their lips brushing against her cheek for a fleeting and yet somehow interminable moment. Kun’s breath hitches, and she feels something curling around her lungs, tight like coils of smoke and yet soft and gentle, something she wants to hold on to. She can’t tell if it’s the remnants of alcohol in her system, or her back to the door, or simply the way Taeil smiles when they step away, trying to hide their face against their own shoulder, more vulnerable than she’s ever seen them, but Kun finds a hazy sort of comfort just the same, what she thinks waking up on a weekend morning would be life when she finally has her life together. She decides she can think about it later, when she’s not standing there in the previous day’s clothes with pillow creases on her face.

 

“I… I won’t. I promise.” Kun mumbles, and her phones buzzes again in her pocket - that damn snooze button - although she can’t bring herself to care right now. 

 

Before she knows it, her feet are moving and she’s closing the already almost non-existent gap between herself and Taeil, an admittedly too sweaty hand coming to rest in the curve of their shoulder, her lips meeting theirs in an awkward yet sincere motion. Her legs nearly give out from under her when Taeil kisses back, fingers gripping at her jacket to pull her in, the smell of coffee and last night’s revelations melding together in a place that seems removed from reality. Yet, Taeil’s hands and lips and their soft skin, the way their hair brushes against Kun’s forehead, the sound of both their breathing, all of that is very real, and it’s so potent Kun thinks she might go dizzy from it.

 

“I should. Go.” she breathes out when they pull apart, transfixed by Taeil’s smile.

 

“See you on Monday, Kun.”

 

As she rushes down the stairs with her heart threatening to break through her ribcage, Kun wonders if she’ll even make it to Monday.

 

___

 

As it turns out, having someone who understands even just one thing about you can make all the difference. 

 

For the longest time, Yukhei had felt like his heart was too big, too reckless maybe, for others to understand. He longed for more than life gave him, chasing some wild fairytale adventure and the picture perfect ending, and the realization that it might not be all out there for him to grasp quite yet felt less like a let down and more like crash landing into an open field with no directions to get back on the road.

 

If life had to be more like a janky tabletop campaign than an epic fantasy novel, he’s happy to have Jungwoo by his side to go through it.

 

Right now, though, he has to push Jungwoo _off_  his side where the other man has nearly passed out on his shoulder in the study hall, hand still set on his notepad where a half-sentence about what Yukhei thinks is impressionism is scribbled in handwriting so disjointed it would be impossible to read to anyone who hadn’t spent the past weeks studying with Jungwoo.

 

The pen he’s still weakly holding falls off his hand and onto the floor next to the table, and next thing Yukhei knows Jungwoo is startled awake, though whether it’s because of the pen, the push, or the five separate people loudly sushing at them, he isn’t sure.

 

“Oh no.” Jungwoo whines when he realizes what happened. “How long was I out? Who’s the president? Did we meet the aliens yet?”

 

Yukhei snorts and earns another aggressive shush, so he fashions his voice into an exaggerated whisper, cupping his mouth with his hand.

 

“Well, you only slept for like five minutes, but really, comatose would be a more appropriate way to put it.”

 

“Oh please.” Jungwoo shakes his head, trying chase the sleepiness away. “Break?”

 

He’s already shoving his notes into his bag, so Yukhei just agrees, “Break.” and follows him to the cafeteria.

  
  
  


“Why do I feel like there’s a goblin that keeps adding years to history every time I try to study?” 

 

They’re tucked away on a bench behind the auditorium, Jungwoo picking flakes off of his bread roll in an almost mechanical fashion as he sulks. Exam season had come before either of them realized, and Yukhei’s newfound caution about rushing into feelings was the only thing that had pulled the both of them out of their growing bond for long enough to study today. He doesn’t hate that new part of himself, as much as he’s surprised it even appeared, because it lets him appreciate moments like this, when he feels needed and is more than happy to let Jungwoo tuck himself under his arm and enjoy the potent, flowery smell of his shampoo.

 

“You need me to kick a goblin’s ass? I’ll do it.” he says, absentmindedly, into Jungwoo’s hair. That makes the other boy laugh and Yukhei isn’t sure if it’s his words or his breath tickling Jungwoo’s scalp, but he’ll take it either way.

 

“I need you to kick my ass at this point. Please. Even Doyoung’s pep talks don’t do it anymore.” 

 

That can’t be true. Yukhei has never been on the receiving end of one, but Jaehyun still recounts the one from his first year with fear in his eyes, so he can’t imagine that it wouldn’t work on Doyoung’s own best friend. Still, Jungwoo sounds so dejected that Yukhei decides he’ll do what he must.

 

“Let’s end it for today. I think we both deserve a rest.” 

 

“I thought I asked you to kick my ass.”

 

Yukhei scrunches up his nose and laughs, presses a chaste kiss to the top of Jungwoo’s head before getting up off the bench and extending a hand to him.

 

“I promise tomorrow I’ll give you the ass whooping of a lifetime. You’ll be talking to your grandchildren about it.” Yukhei announces, taking the way Jungwoo raises his eyebrows at him as a small victory. “But now you really need some rest. Don’t sacrifice that pretty little head of yours for some painter dude who won’t be there to see it.”

 

“Says the guy whose entire syllabus was written before the dinosaurs went extinct.”

 

“Okay, that’s harsh. Luo Guanzhong didn’t fight a velociraptor barehanded to be disrespected like this.” 

 

“I’m going to need sources,” Jungwoo quips as he rises to his feet, brushing stray crumbs from the front of his shirt. “In numbered annotations!”

 

Yukhei throws an arm around Jungwoo’s shoulders and pulls him in as they start walking, hand hanging over Jungwoo’s chest, and he feels a smile etching upon his face when Jungwoo takes it, loosely links their fingers together. Maybe tonight he’ll get to have Jungwoo fall asleep on him again while some inane action movie plays, lights from the computer screen making shadows dance across his face, and he hopes the expression he’ll find there will be peaceful. 

 

There’s still a ways ahead before either of them can find what they’re looking for, Yukhei knows that now. He still feels restless at times, envious when he thinks his friends have it all figured out, until he realizes no one really does.

 

“You know, maybe I should actually take you up on that offer to be kids again,” Jungwoo mumbles, shaking his hair out of his face. “No finals, right?”

 

“Nah.” It’s at least one certainty. 

 

The other Yukhei has is that they’re still kids in a way, growing into their own mind, and for Jungwoo, still into his own skin. They’re rough and messy still, at least Yukhei knows he is, and while they’re not fighting dragons or scaling castles, there’s something more solid on the horizon still. They’ve got each other’s company to rely on, and they can take on the world at their own pace.

 

“But I think we’re doing good as we are right now.” 

  
  


___

 

She makes it to Monday.

 

It’s nine a.m and Kun pushes the door of the clay studio open with her shoulder, balancing her sketchbook under her arm and a jumbo-sized coffee in the other hand, because she’s barely slept that weekend, between planning the dream board projects she’s doing with the kids and replaying the events of Saturday morning in her mind like a broken cassette tape that’s ripped apart exactly where she wants it to continue.

 

She waddles towards her station, almost knocks someone’s newly-glazed flower pot over, but finally manages to settle down, downing too much coffee in one go when she does.

 

“Oh my god, is it finally happening? Are you having your midlife crisis?” Sehun calls from across the room, and Kun can hear him yelp, assumes Joohyun has probably executed her deadly ear pinch on him like she must. Kun always liked having her as a TA, especially on Mondays when she’s in charge instead of the usual harrowing professor.

 

Midlife crisis, yeah, Kun guesses you could call it that. She flips through her sketchbook for a minute before reluctantly getting up to the clothing rack where her apron is hanging, but she feels a hand on her arm before she can reach for it. Thankfully, she finds Joohyun next to her, mouthing a “you okay?”, gently rubbing her arm when Kun nods.

 

“Had a weird weekend, is all.” she says, tying the apron around her waist. 

 

She doesn’t know how else to describe the sleepless night of Saturday, when she spent fifteen minutes Googling the word “lesbian” before giving up and making a mental note to delete the entire Internet after finding way, way too much porn. She texted Ten, whose reply was short, vague, and probably an indication that he was too busy living out his own adult movie to spare some time, and Kun couldn’t even blame him, not with the way her own thoughts had wandered.

 

What she feels about Taeil - _for_  Taeil - is still a cloudy mystery, with the only clue being the fact that she wants to feel more of it. It also has the added effect of making her wonder, for the first time in years, what the word really means to her. Because she knows who she loves, who she wants, or at least she thought she did. But Taeil says they’re not, that they’re not sure, not quite, maybe won’t ever will be, and Kun knows that’s okay. She also knows it would be wrong, and so, so terribly selfish, to want them to be what they’re not just so she could feel better about herself.

 

“Do you think that makes me… Not a lesbian?” she asks Joohyun during break, after summing up the events best as she could.

 

“I think you define yourself, Kun. You very clearly like this Taeil person,” Joohyun says, adjusting her ponytail, “and you don’t have to put your entire life in question because of that.”

 

There’s a half-full bag of fresh clay thrown at her and Kun makes a flimsy catch, causing Joohyun to laugh around her words.

 

“The world already tries to police you enough. Don’t do it to yourself.”

 

They still ring true.

 

“I’m way in over my head, aren’t I.” Kun deadpans. She’s not used to being on the receiving end of advice, although she could become it. It’s nice to be guided, for a change. 

 

“Kun, if you like them, go for it. I know words are important but,” Joohyun points a finger right between Kun’s ribs. “This is still what matters most.”

 

“Are you sure you’re not a fairy godmother? Like, _really_   sure?” Kun whines and Joohyun laughs, holding the door open for her. 

 

“Lesbian wisdom. Love it” Sehun quips out of seemingly nowhere, and he’s dragged by the wrist to his station, leaving Kun to work with a clear mind.

  
  
  


When the clock strikes twelve and everyone is packing up, Kun washes her hands and fumbles with her phone for a moment, stopping on Taeil’s number like it’s the codeword for a treasure chest. Her hands feel heavy as she types, heart thrumming against her ribs, and she bites her lip when the little ‘sent’ icon appears under the text bubble.

 

That’s how she and Taeil end up at a tiny ramen shop on Tuesday night, squeezed around one of the only tables, steam fogging up their vision. Kun hopes it also hides the blush that she can feel creeping her cheeks when Taeil’s hand brushes against hers as they both reach for chopsticks at the same time. 

 

“How’s Yukhei?” Taeil asks nonchalantly before digging in, the question striking Kun as genuine regardless.

 

“He’s doing okay. Spending a lot of time with Jungwoo these days, actually.

 

Taeil cocks an eyebrow and grins. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that! You think romance is in the air?”

 

It might be, but not where you think it is, is what Kun would say if she didn’t feel hopeless right now. Instead she huffs out a laugh, says “I hope they’re not rushing there quite yet.”, even if it feels a little hypocritical in her mouth.

 

It’s not so much that she wants romance with Taeil just now, not when the two of them still have things to work out, but Kun wouldn’t say no to more nights in, more falling asleep tangled up together, or more of Taeil’s sweet, coffee-scented kisses. It doesn’t need a name, just a confirmation that they want the same thing, something she can tuck away in her pocket and cherish.

 

“I wanted to thank you again for last time,” she says, toying with a piece of green onion floating on top of her bowl. “It was really nice. All of it.”

 

“Even the kiss?”

 

Oh, okay then. To the point. Not that she would expect anything less from Taeil, but it still takes Kun by surprise.

 

“I was surprised that you initiated it, though. I’m not used to being beaten to the punch.”

 

“You kissed me first!” 

 

“On the _cheek_ , Kun. Not that I didn’t want the other thing.” 

 

They tilt their head to the side waiting for a reply, but Kun is too busy trying to hide behind the fading steam, collecting her thoughts. Back when it happened, she could barely register what she was doing, only that she really, desperately wanted to kiss Taeil, and that the remnants of liquid courage from the night had probably helped a little. Now, though, she’s sober as a rock and can’t process the fact that Taeil definitely said, in almost so many words, that they’d wanted it.

 

“I wasn’t really… Thinking.”

 

“I figured. And that’s good.” Taeil teases her gently, but they still reach around the bowls, looking for her hand. “Hey.”

 

Kun wants to melt into their touch, and suddenly everything spills out at once.

 

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, “I just, you were right there, after that night, and I felt like someone got me, like you knew where I was coming from, like I could maybe find what I’ve been looking for, and I really wanted to kiss you- fuck, Taeil, I really want to kiss you right now, I just feel like we’re--”

 

I feel like we’re right for each other.

 

But of course, Kun doesn’t say that. Instead, she shoves a disproportionate amount of noodles in her mouth, trying to avoid looking at where Taeil is silently waiting for her to open her heart once and for all.

 

“I’m the one who gives advice, yeah.” she breathes in as she says, “but right now I don’t know. I just want to… I only want to feel it out.”

 

She suddenly remembers something she’d told the kids a while ago, something she’d repeated to Taeyong when they had a particularly painful episode, a moment when Kun felt like she was about to lose them for good.  _ “It’s okay to not know.” _

 

And yeah, maybe it’s okay for her too. 

 

“We can do that.”

 

Taeil is looking at her like she’s the only person in the room, like the world has been stripped bare and there’s only room to grow. Kun can barely believe it, but she feels her heart slow down all the same, the last remnants of adrenaline stuck in her throat as she tries to breathe them out. 

 

“Kun.” Taeil squeezes her hand across the table. “You don’t have to be sure of everything all the time, you know?”

 

“I know.” she says, because of course she knows. How foolish would she be if she didn’t take the advice she’s given so many people. 

 

In part, it’s maybe because she’d managed to keep a fragile control over her own feelings, trying to distance herself from the hurt that she’d been dealt. But here, and now, she knows she has no reason to believe Taeil would ever repeat other people’s mistakes, that they’d leave her fragile and cracked like others had done before. Kun also knows, as hard as it is, that Taeil can’t fix her heart, but maybe opening it up will be the beginning of healing. Maybe through them, she can find more of herself.

 

“I really… I really want to try. If that’s okay with you.” her voice breaks a little, but she powers through the words either way.

 

“We can figure it out as we go. No need to rush. We’re young, we have all the time in the world, right? 

 

Time has never been on their side, Kun thinks, not when they’re living a life that others wants nothing more than to suppress. But she hears the defiance in Taeil’s voice, sees a glimmer of hope in their eyes, sitting at this table that feels like the edge of a new world, and believes that maybe, they can make some time for themselves.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> endless, ENDLESS thank yous to everyone who reads & supports this series, as well as to bru, dylan, ricki, always and forever, for supporting this series and the shenanigans i get into while writing it.
> 
> this took me a little longer to write than i anticipated & it kind of took on a life of its own but i hope it's a good read!
> 
> you can always find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/diaminghao) if you want to talk!
> 
> peace!


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